


All I Want for Christmas is You

by missmichellebelle



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Christmas, Fluff, M/M, Nerd Blaine, Popular Kurt, Secret Admirer, Secret Santa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-23
Updated: 2012-12-23
Packaged: 2017-12-20 12:35:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/887346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missmichellebelle/pseuds/missmichellebelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You have a secret admirer?" Tina asks, eyes nearly bugging out of her head, and Blaine waves his hands, trying to quiet her. She looks around, as if maybe someone heard her, and then ducks in closer across the lunch table. “Why didn’t you tell me?" She hisses.</p><p>"I wasn’t sure," Blaine whispers back. “I only got the second one after school, and one note doesn’t make someone an admirer." Blaine pulls the pieces out of his pocket, smoothing them carefully on the surface of the table. “The third one was there this morning."</p>
            </blockquote>





	All I Want for Christmas is You

It’s the last week of school before Winter Break when Blaine opens his locker and a red note falls out. It startles him, at first, but it flutters harmlessly to rest by his shoe. Checking to see if anyone is watching him, Blaine bends down to pick it up, sliding his glasses back up his nose as he huddles close to his locker.

 _Poinsettias are red  
Snowflakes are white   
I wished on a star   
For you last night_   
 _\- SS_

Blaine draws back, eyes wide, and he immediately looks around. But no one is looking at him, or paying him any attention—they definitely aren’t muffling laughter behind their hands, or waiting to throw a slushie in his face.

Is… Is this  _real?_  Is this actually for him? He opens the note again, smiles, and then folds it in half again before carefully tucking it into the pocket of his sweater vest. If he walks with an extra spring in his step that day, nobody points it out.

*

"You’re being obvious again," Tina tells him quietly, and Blaine glances at her in surprise. She just raises her eyebrows and tilts her head in the direction Blaine was looking—he turns back to his salad, chasing a crouton around the plate with his fork.

"Obvious to  _who?_ " People don’t really pay attention to them, after all. Blaine lifts his gaze again, letting it drift a couple of tables over just in time to see Kurt Hummel throw his head back in a laugh.

"You could always try talking to him," Tina encourages, and it isn’t the first time. Blaine blushes, shaking his head and pulling his gaze away from the way Kurt’s lips move and the clean line of his profile.

"People like him don’t talk to people like me," Blaine mutters, the words clogging in his throat. Tina doesn’t say anything, and Blaine stabs at a leaf of his lunch with a little more force than necessary.

*

The next note is green, and Blaine finds it after school on Tuesday.

_I wish I could write you poetry every day, but instead I will use the wise words of Mariah Carey:_

_I just want you for my own_  
More than you could ever known   
Make my wish come true   
All I want for Christmas is you   
\- SS

Blaine can’t help but smile, pressing the note close to his chest. The note is signed the exact same way, so it must be from the same person. There are less people in the hallway after school, and Blaine looks around, but no one is looking at him. There’s absolutely no hint of who slipped the note into his locker, aside from the sharp lilt of the handwriting.

*

"You have a  _secret admirer?_ " Tina asks, eyes nearly bugging out of her head, and Blaine waves his hands, trying to quiet her. She looks around, as if maybe someone heard her, and then ducks in closer across the lunch table. “Why didn’t you tell me?" She hisses.

"I wasn’t sure," Blaine whispers back. “I only got the second one after school, and  _one note_  doesn’t make someone an admirer." Blaine pulls the pieces out of his pocket, smoothing them carefully on the surface of the table. “The third one was there this morning."

“ _‘Twas the night before Christmas, and wouldn’t it feel right, to cuddle and kiss you, in romantic firelight?_ " Tina reads outloud, and then coos, looking up at him with a flood of emotion in her eyes. “I’m so jealous, Mike never does things like this for me."

"I don’t even know who’s doing it, Tina," Blaine sighs, folding them back up neatly before tucking them away for safe keeping.

"SS," Tina muses, sliding a french fry into her mouth and chewing thoughtfully. “Do you think those are initials?"

Blaine shrugs, leaning his chin on his hand and then letting his gaze drift across the lunchroom as it normally does. If they  _were_  initials, there’s only one set he’d want them to be…

"Maybe it’s a hint, to who he is."

 _If_  it’s a he, but Blaine doesn’t bother pointing that out. Instead, he watches as Kurt Hummel fixes his hair and smiles at something someone says to him.

*

 _The first time I saw you_  
I wish I’d known what to say   
But you smiled at me and   
My lonely heart grew three sizes that day   
\- SS

Blaine nearly wants to jump up and down, but he grins at the paper instead. That’s when he notices the other note sitting in his locker—this one has his name written on it, but the handwriting is the same. He picks it up, sliding it in front of the first note.

_Tomorrow. 4pm.  
\- SS_

Blaine’s eyebrows raise. It’s the first note he’s gotten that hasn’t been some sort of poem or lyric, and that gives him any sort of instruction. His heart rate picks up, and he ducks into his locker for a minute to clear his head.

Tomorrow. 4pm. Blaine knows what he wants that to mean, but… He takes a deep breath. It does nothing to fret over it.

*

Blaine spends all night picking out his outfit, and wondering if his [snowman](http://www.the-perfect-necktie.com/images/P/FBTX-6_medium.jpg) bow tie is too much.

And totally  _doesn’t_  fret.

(Except that he definitely does).

*

For some reason, Blaine doesn’t mention the second note to Tina, even as she beams at him over the fourth note, talking excitedly with her hands about things that Blaine can’t even wrap his head around. He fiddles with his bow tie, checks his hair, straightens his sweater, and wonders if his secret admirer is watching him right at that moment.

Tina has moved on to how  _romantic_  it would be to have Christmas as an anniversary when Blaine lets his gaze linger. It’s a lazy movement, but it’s routine for them to always drift to the same place.

Kurt Hummel is wearing a turtleneck today.

And Kurt Hummel is definitely looking straight back at him.

Blaine turns away, blood rushing to his face, and the motion is so quick that he nearly knocks over his water. Tina stops, looking at him, but he motions for her to go on as he tries to get his heart rate back to normal.

Kurt Hummel  _caught him staring_. Blaine knows he’ll never be able to look again, even though all he wants to do now is glance back over.

Even when he suddenly doesn’t remember Kurt turning to look at him, almost as if Kurt had been looking first…

*

The debacle with Kurt is enough to distract Blaine almost until the end of school, but then he starts noticing the clock, and time seems to slow down considerably. His thoughts jerk back and forth from what Kurt thinks of him now to what’s about to happen to him, and then remembers that 4pm isn’t right after school and what is he supposed to do for the extra hour?

Blaine ends up in the library, which isn’t abnormal. He spends a lot of his time in the McKinley library, certainly more than anyone else, so it isn’t strange that the stacks are nearly devoid of students. After all, it’s a Friday, the last day of school before Winter Break, and no one would choose to stick around.

He doesn’t bother picking out a book, settling down at a table with an easy view of the clock (which, he tells himself, he’s not going to stare at). Of course, that becomes actually feasible when his view is suddenly interrupted by a familiar black turtleneck. Blaine immediately drops his eyes down to the notebook he’d been smart enough to remember, solved math equations spread before him for a final he’s already taken.

It’s Kurt. He pulls the chair out, sits down, and opens a book on the table  _right across_ from where Blaine is sitting.

Oh god, this has never happened before. Aside from their English class, where Kurt sits two seats over and three seats in front of him. They’ve never been this close before, and Blaine feels like he might start hyperventilating any second now.

Can he look? Kurt has a book, right, which he’ll be reading, so if Blaine just…

He raises his eyes slowly, trailing up over hands, arms, the way the dark fabric clings to his chest, shoulders, neck, the clean, sharp, defined line of his jaw, his eyes—

His eyes. This time, Blaine is sure of it—Kurt is looking at  _him_. When their eyes meet, Kurt’s widen, just slightly, probably from noticing Blaine noticing him…

Kurt noticed him, Blaine Anderson. Blaine wants to duck under the table just to do some sort of celebratory gesture.

And then,  _and then_ , Kurt smiles at him, sort of shy and hesitant, and Blaine isn’t sure if his heart is going to stop or fly away completely.

"Hi," Kurt says, his voice quiet, and it’s a voice that Blaine has heard before—Kurt is very vocal in class, and Blaine has caught bits and pieces of conversations before. Not because he was trying to, or anything… Because that would be weird and creepy. However, having Kurt address him  _directly_ … Blaine isn’t quite prepared for it. His mouth opens, closes, and opens again, and he wants to smack himself in the face for being ineloquent. “Blaine, right?"

_He knows my name._ **_He knows my name. HE KNOWS MY NAME_.**

"You know my name?" Blaine can’t help but ask, and Kurt bites his lip and  _oh_ , that does something interesting to Blaine’s stomach. Kurt tilts his head to the side, still chewing his lip, and his eyebrows furrow worriedly.

"Should I not?" He sounds so hesitant, so unlike Blaine has ever heard him before.

Blaine’s immediate reaction is  _no_. Kurt’s never once shown Blaine any sort of acknowledgement or recognition. But instead he just shrugs, a little pathetically, and starts tracing circles on the library table with the pad of his thumb.

"…I’m Kurt."

Blaine laughs, once, quietly, and then looks up at Kurt, blinking.

"I know who you are." He regrets saying it as soon as the words are out, but he can’t take them back. Kurt looks a little surprised, but not at all freaked out. And then he smiles, and Blaine feels like he would drop to the ground and promise anything to that smile.

"You’re in my English class," Kurt says, knowingly, and surprises Blaine again. “You sit three rows behind me, right?" Dumbfounded, Blaine just nods, mouth gaping open slightly, and then—and  _then_ —Kurt  _blushes_ , as if he’s embarrassed. Blaine’s stomach feels like it’s tying itself into bows.

"I—" Blaine starts, but he’s not sure what he’s trying to say. Kurt looks at him, attentively, maybe even a little eagerly, and Blaine tries desperately to grasp some—any—words. “You don’t need a tutor."

Kurt frowns.

"Pardon?"

"You… I can’t tutor you. I mean, I  _could_ , but… But you don’t need it. I mean, I know the glasses sort of make me look like I’m super smart, but I’m  _not_ —I, I mean I  _am_ smart, but you are also very,  _very_  smart—smarter than me, definitely, so you’d only be… Hindering yourself, if I tutored you. Really. I don’t think there’s anyone at this _school_  smarter than you, but what do I know, I—"

"Blaine." Kurt’s lips are curved into a smile, his eyebrows lifted high in amusement. “I don’t want you to tutor me." Kurt dips his head, and the way he sort of glances up at Blaine makes all of his tumbling words pile up in his throat. “I just… Wanted to talk to you," Kurt admits, shyly.

"You wanted to talk?"

Kurt nods.

"To  _me?_ " Blaine asks in disbelief.

"Well, I don’t see anyone else in here, do you?" Kurt teases, and Blaine feels himself blush again. Either way, he can’t help but look around—but the library really is empty, except for the librarian, Mrs. Wilson, putting away returned books. She sees him and smiles, giving a tiny wave, and he waves back. When he does look back at Kurt, Kurt is still watching him, but with a strange expression on his face.

Kurt wants to talk to him, but Blaine has no idea what to say. Sometimes, lying in bed, or daydreaming in class, he’d imagine this happening to him—but the Blaine in his head is much more charismatic than he is, apparently, because he can’t seem to think of anything to talk about. He knows the sorts of things Kurt is interested in—music, broadway, fashion—and Blaine knows there are so many things to start a conversation over.

Only no words are coming to him.

But then Kurt is suddenly leaning across the table, which isn’t very large to begin with, and his fingers are shifting Blaine’s bow tie slightly to the side—straightening it.

"I like your bow tie," Kurt compliments. “The snowmen are cute."

Blaine jerks away, nearly knocking over his chair as he stands up. He’s got his bag in his hands before he even realizes it, and Kurt’s hand is frozen, reaching across the table, as he stares at Blaine in surprise.

"I-I-I, I have somewhere to be, I…" Blaine swallows, his mouth feeling incredibly dry. “I’m sorry, I—" he does knock the chair over then, stares at it, and then hurriedly rights it, even going as far as to tuck it in. He looks back at Kurt, feeling helpless, hands moving as if trying to explain even as his mouth doesn’t cooperate.

So he just bolts, moving as fast as he can without actually breaking into a run, and leaving the library—and Kurt—as fast as possible. It’s not 4pm, not yet, but Blaine doesn’t care—he’ll wait out the rest of the hour at his locker.

*

There’s no one else in the school anymore, except perhaps a few teachers tucked behind classroom doors. But there are no other students milling about, and Blaine begins to wonder if all of the notes have led up to some sort of practical joke. Even with his blood still pumping hard from his run-in with Kurt, Blaine feels the utter sense of defeat settle on his shoulders. He should have seen this coming, really.

Except… As he approaches his locker, he notices that something is taped to the top of it. His feet slow as he approaches, eyebrows furrowing in confusion, and then flying upwards as he realizes what it is.

Someone has taped mistletoe to his locker.

When he comes to a stop, he’s standing right beneath it, and he reaches up to brush over the leaves carefully.

"I didn’t have a poem for today."

Blaine turns around, and Kurt is standing there, a little ways down the hallway, his own bag slung over his shoulder and Blaine’s notebook pressed to his chest. He’d forgotten it when he’d run out of the library.

"I didn’t think I’d need one, but… Maybe I should have prepared one, anyway."

It takes too many moments too long for Blaine to register what Kurt is saying, even as Kurt walks closer. He’s only a few feet away when Blaine’s eyes widen in realization.

"You—you’re the one who’s been leaving the notes in my locker?" Blaine asks, his voice too high and too quiet. It—it can’t be real, it can’t be possible, things like this don’t happen to  _Blaine_  of all people.

"SS," Kurt says, and that’s all he really needs to say to verify it. The only person who has seen the notes is Tina, and she’d never turn it into some cruel joke to hurt him.

"What does it stand for?"

Kurt blushes, and he really does look unfairly pretty when he does that.

"Secret Santa? Is that cheesy? I… I guess I was too scared to put my own initials." Kurt shrugs, self consciously.

"Too scared?" Blaine blinks. “Too scared of what? … _me?_ ”

"I don’t know." Kurt shrugs again, holds the notebook closer to his chest. He’s very close now, and Blaine can smell his hair product, his moisturizer, maybe even a hint of cologne. It makes him feel dizzy in the best way. “Maybe you weren’t interested."

"Not  _interested?_  In  _you?_  I— _Kurt_." Blaine doesn’t know how else to say it, but Kurt’s face splits into a smile. “What?"

"I just… I’ve never heard you say my name before." Kurt shrugs, glancing away, and Blaine flicks through every memory he has… But Kurt’s right.

"Kurt," he says again, and Kurt’s smile softens into one Blaine has never, ever seen before. “I… Of course I’m interested,  _god_ , of course I am, that’s—" It’s unthinkable, that Blaine wouldn’t be interested in Kurt. “You’re beautiful, and funny, and witty, and smart, and  _amazing_ , and—" Blaine draws up short, staring down at the ground, and then lifting his eyes back to Kurt. He pushes his glasses back up his nose. “Why me?"

"Why you? Oh, Blaine…" Kurt takes another step forward, and everything seems to stop as Kurt slowly—hesitantly, questioningly—reaches out to touch Blaine’s cheek. He can’t help it—he leans into it. “The first time I saw you, you smiled at me… Not the way other people smile at me, or the way anyone has ever smiled at me. But you smiled at me like it was real, like you meant it, like that smile was… Special. Like it was only for me."

"It was," Blaine whispers.

"…you look at me like I… Like I hung the stars or something ridiculous like that."

"No… No. I… I look at you because you’re  _you_ , Kurt. You could decide that your life’s ambition is to own fifty cats, and I would still look at you that way."

Kurt laughs, and Blaine can’t help but grin—he made Kurt  _laugh_.

"Why do you treat me like I’m so special?" Kurt asks in wonderment, and Blaine looks at him as if he’s ridiculous.

"Because you are."

Kurt’s eyes bore into him, and then he’s leaning forward—he doesn’t have to say anything, doesn’t have to prelude it with words. Blaine’s eyes close and then Kurt’s lips are pressed to his, soft and careful. It’s the lightest of kisses, and yet Blaine feels as if he’s suddenly pinned to the floor.

"I never thought," he says, as Kurt pulls away and they open their eyes, “to ask for _you_  for Christmas."

"I did." Kurt smiles, and laces his fingers with Blaine’s.


End file.
